


Vlastomil gets Blastomil'd

by KaneCorp



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Mpreg, Other, birthing slime, definite squick warning, inappropriate things to do in nadia's palace, kind of, nadia's bdsm dungeon makes an appearance, somebody was going to do this eventually so, worm birthing, worm pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 14:17:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaneCorp/pseuds/KaneCorp
Summary: Vlastomil is supposed to have a meeting with Countess Nadia, but his 'children' have a much different plan for his day....or: vlastomil shits out some worms guys, idk how else to put this





	Vlastomil gets Blastomil'd

**Author's Note:**

> this is a gift for a good friend because i love him and he got way too into vlastomil, so instead of staging an intervention like a good friend i decided to indulge him

Vlastomil… would rather not be here. But Countess Nadia has called for him, so he has no choice but to meander the halls of her decadent palace. Normally he would relish the chance to have her company, truly! Today, however, is a bit of an… issue. His hand strays to his belly, pressing against the rounded swell of his gut as the worms inside him stir slowly. Today he’s supposed to- well, that’s, to put it as simply as possible: he has to give birth. It’s not exactly birth, they aren’t exactly kids, but the worms he’s let gestate inside him are probably going to really want out some time today.

The best place to house his dear worms is obviously where he can keep a constant check on them, and there’s nowhere more constant than literally inside himself. It… hadn’t really been intentional, becoming a breeding ground for his worms, but he’s not going to complain. Not when he can feel them thriving through his own skin, and their slick undulations on the way out do give him quite a bit of pleasure, after all. Really though, he had just wanted to keep the few of them safe, so he, well, he swallowed them. It was a complete surprise when they started reproducing. Really! You’ve got to believe him! ………. You’re not buying it, are you. That’s fair, Vlastomil wouldn’t believe any of that either, especially knowing that it was all completely intentional through and through.

He’s sweating now, slow beads forming on his brow and back. At first he thinks it’s probably just because he’s nervous, he’s nearly made it to the drawing room where he’ll be talking with Countess Nadia and that’s more than enough to make any reasonable man nervous. The slowly intensifying movements in his bowels tell him otherwise though, and he sweats harder. This is going to be heinously awkward, especially considering that dear servant, Portia, had taken it upon herself to escort him through the winding halls. She’d been quiet the entire walk after initial greetings, and Vlastomil was unfathomably thankful for that. Now however, the silence was becoming a bit oppressive, especially as his, er, particular problem was making itself known to him.

He could feel the coils of young worms shift under his hand where he kept it held against his expectant belly, signaling that they wanted out sooner much rather than later. Perhaps they could wait until after his business with the Countess? They were practically at the drawing room doors already, so that shouldn’t be too much to ask, Vlastomil thinks. The sensation of warm slick oozing down his crack tells him immediately otherwise. Oh dear. Oh goodness no. Right this moment, really? He can’t risk trying to hold them at bay for a whole meeting with the Countess, if he failed she’d almost definitely have him executed. Not that the punishment he’s inevitably going to get for staining her floors with worm slime is going to be much better, but still.

He decides to stop where he is, clench his buttocks as hard as he can, and clear his throat. He waits for the servant to look at him in question before he speaks, “Ahem, erm, Miss Portia, I’m afraid I have something rather, er,” a gurgling low in his guts interrupts him and he coughs indelicately, plastering a wide smile on his face. “Urgent! Something very urgent, to attend to. You’ll have to let the Countess know, but I really am, needed elsewhere at the moment.” He’s sweating a lot harder now, he can feel it beading down the back of his neck.

Portia’s giving him an odd look, her brow heavily quirked and her lips pursing. She opens her mouth to speak, but she doesn’t get a chance to say anything before Vlastomil starts shuffling away as quickly as he can. It’s not exactly fast and it’s definitely awkward since he’s still clenching, trying to keep any more slime from dribbling past the ring of muscle between his cheeks. He gives a rushed farwell and a clipped wave over his shoulder, desperate to be as far away from Countess Nadia and her spiteful tendencies as possible. It’s a frantic few minutes as he makes his way to one of the… less inhabited, wings of the palace, desperate to find seclusion in a spare room.

Finally, far away from prying eyes and curious ears, Vlastomil puts one pale, gnarled hand against the heavy wood of a door. His other hand is in a much less dignified position: grasping the cloth of his robes in the area of his derriere and pressing, making a futile effort to stem the flow of warm slick from his ass. By the time he’s gotten here his knees are already shaking at the sensation of thick droplets sliding down the skin of his thighs until meeting the material of his boots. He hopes he hasn’t dripped anywhere noticeable along his path, but he can’t spare much attention for that, not as he’s finally pushing the door open and finding solace.

The door swings shut behind him, ensconcing him in the shadows of the room, only for lamps along the walls to flicker to life, bathing everything in an eerie blue light. The azure flames dance in their sconces, revealing the furniture around him. Although some of it seems a little difficult to call ‘furniture’, most things are made of a deep coloured wood with cushions upholstered in leather, but few seem fit to use comfortably. Valstomil barely has time to register that he seems to have stumbled into a dungeon of some kind as another gurgle sounds from his belly, leaving him groaning and clutching his middle a little tighter than intended. He stumbles further into the room, falling to clutch at the worn leather covering a bench of some kind, unable to hold out against the pressure writhing in his bowels any longer.

It’s with a trembling moan that he finally starts to relax his floor muscles, the hot weight of slime rolling along his taint as he shudders against the leather. He pulls himself up onto the angled bench as properly as he can, hitching his robes high around his hips to keep them out of the way. Whatever this bench is, it’s mighty convenient; the angle enough to encourage gravity to help the worms on their path yet not so steep that he couldn’t sit comfortably. The odd arms prove to be even more convenient as a convulsion seizes his anus, the muscles grasping and gaping at nothing as more slick starts to pour freely from him, his hands grasping desperately at the armrests.

His breath whistles out of him and he silently thanks the heaven’s that he’s long since stopped bothering with underclothes, they’d be far too bothersome to take off right now. The fabric of his robes rests heavily against his pale cock, pressing it against the swell of his belly. Precum already beads at the tip, more spilling as the worms begin shifting in true and Vlastomil groans. One hand squeezes at the smooth leather armrest as the other winds its way down between his legs. He’s tentative, touch light against the sensitive skin of his taint, first cupping his balls before lifting them out of the way to delve deeper.

With two long fingers he smears the slick leaking from his hole, pressing against the ring of muscle for extra stimulation. A high keen pierces the air as Vlastomil can finally feel the first of many ‘children’ that he’ll be birthing today snaking its way through his bowels, seeking freedom. He can feel it coming, a pressure behind his sphincter, and he relaxes as best he can, eager for what he knows is coming.

It happens suddenly. The head of the worm pushes its way into the open air, and the momentum carries it, sliding swiftly out of him and past his fingers to fall wetly against the floor. The quick exit surprises him, and he can’t help the way his thighs jerk and the giddy, breathless laugh that leaves his mouth. The first worm is followed by another, slurping noisily out of his asshole, and Vlastomil barely notices through the haze of sensation that these worms are bigger than the last batch. Not that that’s something he minds, no, not at all! In fact, he’s rather happy about it!

Very happy indeed, especially as another fat worm wriggles about in his rectum, mashing against his prostate as it moves. The pressure sends a jolt of watery pre spurting from the head of his cock, drenching a small spot on the front of his robes, and he keens. The greater size of these worms also means they’re thicker too, and he can feel some even larger still deep inside him, wiggling frantically in excitement. They’re eager to leave and Vlastomil is just as eager to let them go.

He doesn’t get a chance to think about the relative behemoth undoubtedly waiting in his bowels, the worm in his rectum thrashes it’s way to freedom, tearing his focus asunder at the sensation. Goodness, but this one is feisty! Very energetic indeed, as it finally peeks past the ring of muscle and starts smacking wetly against the skin in the area in an attempt to pry itself free. Vlastomil giggles breathlessly and uses his fingers to help it free itself, easing it gently until it slides free completely in a rush of warm slick.

The worm that follows it is a bit smaller, but much less vigorous. It takes it’s time, crawling slowly through his rectum, and he can barely handle the change in pace. He’ll do anything for his ‘kids’, obviously, but it doesn’t stop him from craving release. Vlastomil moans pitifully before he decides to _encourage_ it, slipping a finger easily into his well-lubed hole to feel around and coax the worm further. Now, one could argue that Valstomil has a lot of terrible ideas, and fingering his own ass while passing worms is either his absolute worst, or his _best_.

The sensation proves addictive, and he can’t help but slide his fingers back in after pulling the worm free, letting it drop to the floor to pile with its brethren. For a few minutes, Vlastomil loses himself to the feeling, fingers pumping in and out of his ass, worms interrupting to squelch out of him before he can get his fingers back in. He’s practically writhing in his seat on the bench, one hand placed against his belly to feel it as each worm exiting leaves him feeling emptier and emptier.

Some time passes like this, Vlastomil fingering himself while he shakes and whines, the pool of worms and slime below him growing larger by the minute. Some semblance of sense comes back to him when the last worm finally shifts again, large and imposing. It’s finally time for its turn, and he can barely breathe through his laughter and moans at the sensation of it writhing inside him.

His belly has finally gotten to near flatness again, but he can still feel the girth of the last worm through his skin and he’s tempted to just keep his hand there, pressing against it to map out every inch of its journey lovingly. The need to come is much stronger though, so he slips his hand around his cock, shoulders jerking at how nearly oversensitive he is. Vlastomil doesn’t bother to pace himself, hand immediately taking up a furious pace because the worm inside him isn’t going slow either.

It’s slurping through his guts, leaving a quaking emptiness in its wake, and when it finally reaches his rectum Vlastomil nearly screams at the pleasure. It’s so much bigger than the other, he can barely believe it! How proud he is, to have such a strong ‘child’! This one is vigorous as ever, wriggling almost violently in its attempt to escape, and on nearly every thrash it puts delicious pressure against his prostate. It leaves Vlastomil drooling down his chin, jaw slack around the shrill moans pouring from his throat.

The worm butts against his fingers, demanding they move out of its way, so he pulls them out. Instead he uses those fingers to hold himself open, gaping his hole as wide as he can to make it easier for the worm to find its way to the open air. At the first tickle of the worm’s head against his sphincter, Vlastomil nearly shouts. Then the worm forces its broad head past his wet muscle, and he really does scream.

He can almost hear his elbow creaking at the pace of his strokes over his cock, but he doesn’t relent, the edge so tantalizingly close that he can almost taste it.  The worms makes steady progress, inch after inch sliding free until suddenly it’s clitellum catches, unable to pass. Vlastomil groans, but the worm is the one that’s truly displeased. It starts flailing frantically, trying to dislodge itself, and the weight of it’s head waving madly adds force behind the thrashing of what’s still inside Vlastomil. The movement places almost painful pressure against his prostate, not to mention the desperate tugging against his sphincter.

Vlastomil can’t stop crying out, noises shrill and desperate while he furiously pumps his cock. He’s so close, so very close, he can barely stand it, he just needs a little more, just a little....!! He gets that ‘little more’ when the worm’s clitellum finally pops free, the rest of its body following in a rush of gravity, the feeling leaving Vlastomil to scream his pleasure as he comes. His come is thin and watery, a testament to how much he’s been enjoying playing host to his worms lately.

Even as Vlastomil comes down from his high, he can still feel warm slick spilling from his stretched hole, thick and viscous. He stays there for a moment to gather himself, breathing helplessly and leaving his legs spread wide. When his wits finally return, he’s hit with the realization that he is most definitely going to be in serious trouble. There’s no way the countess will let him get away with making such a mess in her home...


End file.
